


Extra Cream and Sugar

by twitchtipthegnawer



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Everyone is muggles and in a college town, Fluff and Angst, Genderfluid!Newt Scamander, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Transphobia, Multi, Trans!Credence Barebone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 03:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11638320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twitchtipthegnawer/pseuds/twitchtipthegnawer
Summary: Newt decided to attend university in America mostly because it offered him far more variety in the sorts of biology classes he could take. Getting to room with a friend and gettingawayfrom awkward exes was a bonus.Too bad he absolutely hadn’t planned for the adorable, gorgeous,takenCredence.





	Extra Cream and Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> In which I ignore how cafes are actually run for the sake of writing easier character interactions. Sorry if this bothers anyone! I promise, the majority of the fic doesn’t actually take place in or around the coffee shop itself.

Newt goes to the same coffee shop just off campus once a week. It’s a comfortable habit, and it gives him a break from the apartment (he likes living with Queenie, he does, but she and Jacob have sex at volumes that are entirely inappropriate). Getting to see the cute barista is just a bonus.

His name is Credence, and he looks like he might be a freshman, which explains why they don’t have any classes together. His dark hair is cut about as unfashionable as possible, which is somehow endearing. Queenie teased him once that his taste in humans is as unusual as his taste in beasts. Considering Credence, it’s probably true.

That’s not to say he ever actually flirts with the boy. Newt’s nervous about crushes, understandably so. But Queenie’s trying to get him to be more outgoing, so one day he puts on a blue skirt that he’s only ever worn in the apartment and marches into the coffee shop.

_ It’s fine, _ he tells himself.  _ We’re in a college town. I’m out to my classmates. He was going to find out eventually. _

His heart still pounds when he meets Credence’s eyes. “The usual, please,” he says politely.

Credence’s mouth is hanging open slightly in shock, but he still manages to shake himself and say, “A mocha with an extra pump, right Mister -”

There’s an awkward silence, and then Newt blurts, “Mister’s fine.”

“Right.” Credence at least looks mortified, so Newt knows he’s not the only one finding the whole thing awkward. “One minute please.”

Turning away, Credence breaks eye contact and gets to work. It’s a slow day, with barely any of the tables taken, so Credence could take his time if he chose. It would delay the inevitable, awkward continuation to their conversation. Newt won’t blame him.

To his surprise, Credence turns to him and says, “I haven’t seen you at the LGBT Center before.”

It wasn’t what Newt had expected in the slightest. It’s better. “I haven’t gone much this year. I did when I was a freshman, though.”

“Oh,” Credence looks down at his shoes, then wheels around and finished the coffee as if the interlude had never happened.

The insatiably curious part of him wants to ask Credence why he frequents the LGBT Center. Is he bi? Would he mind dating someone genderfluid?

Except that Newt is Newt, and will never have the courage to just flat out ask someone that, so he doesn’t ask anything. He just takes his coffee to his seat, and pulls out his laptop, and does homework until the coffee is long gone and he can’t focus for another second. By that point, the shop’s too busy for Credence to chat, so Newt just goes home.

\----------

Next week, Newt goes again. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and jeans this time, because he can only handle so much courage at once. The look Credence gives him, shy and sweet through his eyelashes, is more than worth it.

“You’re a zoology major, right?” Credence asks, fidgeting with the edge of his apron.

“Yes,” Newt replies. He can feel his face doing the  _ thing  _ again, the one Tina said made him look particularly handsome. He hopes Credence likes it as much as she did. “I’ve got a focus on endangered species. My professors keep trying to get me to pick something more specific, but I think that variety is - er, sorry.”

“Sorry?” Credence frowns a little. “Why? I think it’s interesting, hearing what you’re studying.”

“Do you really?” Newt can’t help that he sounds a bit surprised. Most people tune him out after the first few sentences, and Credence isn’t even really his friend. He has no obligation to listen.

Ducking his head, Credence says, “Well, it’s n-nice. I don’t know many zoology majors.”

“I see,” Newt replies, even though he doesn’t. “What major are you, then?”

“None. I don’t - I’m not a student.”

That’s not a problem for Newt, really it’s not (he’s not the kind of asshole to look down on someone for making a different choice than him), but he hadn’t been expecting it at all. He’s the one left staring in shock, until someone behind him clears their throat and he has to get out of the way.

While they give their order to Credence and shoot Newt annoyed looks, he has a chance to gather his thoughts. “Hey,” he says, when they’re gone. Credence meets his eyes nervously. “There’s nothing wrong with choosing not to go to school, although I’m sure you know that by now. If I’d made that choice, I’d certainly have more free time!”

Credence gives him a small, soft smile, and it’s worth all the awkwardness and anxiety just to see it. Newt’s crush is serious business. He really hopes it doesn’t backfire on him.

\----------

It backfires on him.

“I just can’t believe it was Mr. Grindelwald this whole time,” he bemoans his fate to Queenie.

“Neither can I, sweetie,” she says. She’s lying on the bed, all stretched out and relaxed in her underwear. It’s lacy and pretty and Newt can’t even admire the dainty design with how upset he is. “Honestly, I kind of thought that man didn’t have any emotions at all.”

No wonder Credence isn’t a student. Gellert Grindelwald is possibly the hottest professor in the whole college, and Newt knows more than one person who would drop out for the chance to date him. To make matters worse, his twin brother is some high-ranking politician, and while Newt doesn’t particularly care for American politics the power and money makes the man even more alluring to others.

“Hey, you know what would make you feel better?”

“Queenie, I swear to god, if you say I should call your sister -”

“I was  _ gonna  _ say you should get dressed up. Nothing quite helps like looking in the mirror and knowing you’d knock his boyfriend outta the park, right tiger?”

Blinking at the ceiling, Newt says, “Actually, yeah. Let’s do that.”

An hour later Newt is posing in Queenie’s full length mirror, admiring his own curves. He hadn’t been sure about going on HRT for a long time, but now he’s glad that it’s softened out some of the features he hadn’t quite liked about himself. “Your bra’s too big for me,” he complains, even though he doesn’t actually mind much.

For her part Queenie is well on her way to being drunk. Between the two of them they’ve nearly emptied the wine bottle they’d opened. “Of course it is. But damn if you don’t look good.”

He  _ does  _ look good. All of the details are perfect; even his nails are painted, courtesy of a much more sober Queenie. “Good enough to sway a maybe-gay boy?”

“Honey, if I wasn’t taken, I’d fuck you in a heartbeat.”

“You’re pan as hell, Queenie,” Newt points out. “Also, I’ve shagged your sister.”

“Ew,” says Queenie, wrinkling her nose. “Thanks for the reminder.”

Their banter has gone a long way to cheering Newt up. In fact, during the entire makeover he hasn’t even thought of seeing Grindelwald possessively wrap a hand around the back of Credence’s neck once, much less the fact that he’d actually seen them  _ kiss  _ -

And there it is again. If Newt can’t get those images out of his head he doesn’t know how he can ever go back to the coffee shop. This is all kinds of inconvenient, and not just because he really likes their coffee. Credence might end up being an awesome friend if Newt can get over himself and keep his mind out of the gutter.

“How does dating work, again?” Newt says as he flops back on the bed.

“Mostly guesswork,” Queenie admits, patting his cheek. “And a whole lotta luck.”

\----------

When Newt walks into the coffee shop, same time as always, he’s surprised to see that Credence isn’t there. He doesn’t know if that’s good luck or bad luck. What he does know is that the unfamiliar barista does a fine job of getting his order right, and that he feels less inclined to linger than usual.

As soon as his drink is finished and the cup is safely in a recycling bin, Newt packs his laptop away and walks out. He almost heads west, towards the apartment, but hesitates at the last second. On a whim, he goes east instead.

Towards the LGBT center. He tells himself that it’s mostly just because Credence has made him feel nostalgic, but he kind of knows that’s bullshit.

Ironically, he hadn’t actually expected to find Credence there. But he’s sitting in one of the overstuffed couches, kind of slouched, reading a book Newt recognizes because he’s read it himself. A book about HRT.

“Credence?” Newt says, as though he could possibly mistake the boy for anyone else.

Head snapping up, Credence stares in surprise at Newt. The movement is so sharp it takes Newt a second to notice the black eye, and decide that this isn’t the good luck he was hoping for after all. “H-hi Newt,” Credence says nervously, half-hiding the book beneath splayed hands.

“Can I sit next to you?” Newt decides to go with the most innocent of the questions swirling through his head.

“Sure,” Credence says, a wrote response. He looks surprised when Newt actually does settle on the couch beside him.

“So, um,” gesturing to the book, Newt swallows hard. “Did I spark your interest or something?”

“What?” Credence looks down, then back up at Newt. “No, I - you didn’t know?”

“Know what?”

“I’m trans. Or, trans too? I’m sorry, I don’t know -”

“Genderfluid,” Newt answers before Credence can get the question out. It’s an easy way to cover how stunned he is. “Oh, fuck, please don’t tell me I’ve been misgendering you this whole time.”

“Oh! No you’re fine. I’m a trans m-man.”

“Thank god,” Newt says, relieved. Credence laughs a little under his breath at how wound up Newt had gotten.

There’s a lull in conversation, during which Credence toys with the edges of the page he’s on. Newt says, awkwardly, “I noticed you weren’t at work today.”

“Did you come looking for me?” Credence looks up through his eyelashes as he asks, and it almost sounds like  _ teasing. _ Newt smiles without meaning to.

“No, but I’m glad I ran into you.”

Flushing bright red, Credence ducks his head back down. Newt feels himself swell up with just the bit of pride at the confirmation that Queenie was right. Sure, he might not be able to actually date Credence, but talking as friends was fun. Maybe he’d even be brave enough to ask if they could exchange phone numbers?

\----------

Late at night, when Newt’s nodding off over a half-written essay on crocodiles, his phone buzzes in his pocket. It jerks him awake, and he only barely keeps from dropping it as he fumbles to answer. It’s a text, not a call, thankfully.

_ Are you still awake, _ it says. It’s from Credence, whose name has until now sat in Newt’s contact list completely unused. It makes Newt’s heart pound in his chest to see the little pixels spelling his name out now.

_ Yeah, midterms are killing me, _ he responds, then tries to get more writing done. It’s practically a lost cause, but he can’t give up just yet. Besides it gives him something to focus on other than simply staring at his screen and waiting for Credence to respond. At least Queenie’s already asleep in her room and isn’t conscious to watch his tomfoolery.

_ What are you working on? _ Credence texts back. And then again, a few seconds later,  _ Sorry, I just need a distraction. _

Newt types out,  _ Why? _ But then deletes it and sends,  _ Crocodile speciation and population sizes. _

_ Speciation?  _ Credence asks.  _ Do you mean there’s more than one kind? _

Immediately launching into an answer, Newt doesn’t realize until an hour late that Credence had half-tricked him into finishing his essay via text. He copies a not insignificant portion of what he’s sent into google docs, then tells Credence as much. The little,  _ Glad I could be helpful! _ Brings a smile to his face.

Still the question preys on him. Why did Credence need a distraction? He doesn’t ask, but he does invite Credence out to discuss more information on beasts, since he seems so interested. Credence happily accepts his offer of a lunch date the next day.

\----------

Considering the late hour of their conversation, perhaps Newt should’ve expected that Credence would have trouble arriving on time. But somehow he’d forgotten that the boy didn’t have any classes to force him awake at obscene hours.

“Sorry, sorry,” Credence says as soon as he catches sight of Newt sitting on a bench. “I slept in late.” He’s disheveled in an adorably cute way, and - is he limping? Newt hopes he didn’t twist his ankle in his rush to get there.

“Not a problem,” Newt sooths. “Here, I’ll get you a sandwich from the food truck. My treat.”

Though Credence tries to protest it’s half hearted, and he ends up tearing into the turkey sandwich ravenously. Newt stares in fascination, until Credence looks up and catches him in the act. Then he looks away and hopes fervently that his cheeks aren’t as red as they feel.

“My professor seemed pretty glad that I turned in my essay on time,” Newt says. “Partly because I think I was the only one in the class to manage it.”

“Really? But I thought college professors don’t accept late work.”

“They’re not supposed to,” Newt admits. “Hardly anyone sticks to that rule. Actually, I think professor Grindelwald is pretty infamous for that.”

“But every time a due date comes up, he alway complains. I thought if there was a way around having to accept all the papers at once he’d take it.”

Stunned, Newt freezes. He feels Credence go abnormally still beside him as well. He hadn’t expected Credence to admit to knowing the professor, let alone knowing him well enough to see him letting down his stern airs. When Newt sees the way Credence’s shoulders are hunched, though, as if bracing for a blow, he finds himself smiling slightly.

“Well, some people just need to stick to the rules, I suppose. Like me, turning in a paper on time when I could’ve gotten away with procrastinating.”

Relieved, Credence smiles back at Newt. “Yes, I guess so.”

\----------

After a while, Newt comes to three realizations. The first is that he and Credence have hung out every day, for nearly a month, and not the way they had when Newt had a one-sided crush. It’s just casual, friendly things, but it’s nearly always outside of the coffee shop.

Second is that Credence still has yet to meet Queenie, Jacob, and Tina. Tina is understandable, since her internship keeps her off campus most of the time, but the other two are both easily remedied and best fixed immediately. Queenie has already taken to teasing him relentlessly about these little friend-dates of his.

And the third, most worrying one, is that Credence is often injured.

Newt wants to believe that it’s just a result of being clumsy. But the injuries fall into patterns, which makes him suspicious. They hardly ever appear when Credence has work. They often sit right on the edge of what’s visible - only appearing when his pant leg rides up his ankle, or his shirtsleeve up his wrist. It makes Newt wonder if there’s more where he can’t see.

These three things combined are why Newt invites Credence to hang out at his apartment overnight. It has absolutely nothing to do with Newt finding him attractive, no matter what Queenie says, and it most certainly was not to get him drunk.

Yet here Credence is, eighteen years old and completely unable to hold his liquor, trying with all his might to prevent from spilling beer onto Newt’s carpet.

“You’re the best,” he says to Queenie, slurring heavily. Then he stumbles, and almost faceplants into Newt’s lap.

Squawking, Newt tries to pull away, but Credence has caught himself with a grip on Newt’s shoulder. “You too,” he says. “You’re also the beast a-always cheering me up when I’m really, really sad.”

Then he sits down on the ground right in front of Newt, a shadow passing over his youthful face. “I miss my mom.”

Jacob giggles, then promptly slaps a hand over his mouth. He always gets a bit slap-happy when he drinks.

“Sorry honey,” Queenie says gently. “Homesickness can be awful, huh.”

“I miss good tea,” adds Newt belatedly.

“Uh huh,” Credence screws up his face, and then says, “I m-miss my sisters,” and bursts into tears. Queenie looks between Credence and Jacob, clearly torn. She wants to comfort the crying boy, but Jacob’s wrapped both his arms around her and hasn’t let go yet.

“There there,” Newt says, scooting closer to him. “Um, what were they like? Do you wanna talk about them.”

Sniffling, Credence nods. “You’d like Modesty, Newt. She saves hurt birds and tries to raise them. Sometimes they even live.”

Tina makes some shocked noise, the first sound she’s uttered in a while. Honestly, Newt kind of thought she’d fallen asleep to the sound of the rest of them talking, but apparently not. Credence doesn’t even seem to notice and simply continues, “Everyone would like Chastity. Everyone likes Chastity. She’s Mom’s favorite.”

“Chastity, Credence, Modesty,” Newt muses. “Is your mother religious?”

A little hiccuping giggle bursts out of Credence’s mouth. Nestling closer, he wraps his arms around Newt’s middle. “Uh huh,” he says again. “‘Cept it’s not Credence, it’s Faith.”

Shocked, Newt shakes his head. “Credence, you don’t have to tell us your deadname -”

“No, it’s what Mom would’ve wanted.  _ Why  _ do I miss her?”

Renewed sobs burst out of Credence’s mouth, and Newt is left to rub his back. He’s just so unsure. There’s so much about Credence he doesn’t understand, and right now feels like the exact wrong time to ask questions. But right now is when Credence wants to talk.

“I’m glad Mr. Grindelwald saved me from her,” he says, as firmly as a wobbly, drunk teenager can say anything. “I really am. B-but sometimes I wish I could see her again, even though she was awful.”

Something thoughtful is in Tina’s eyes, but Queenie’s are full of nothing but tearful empathy. “Oh, honey,” she says, finally disentangling herself from her boyfriend. “It’ll be okay. Life’s complicated, isn’t it? Nothing wrong with getting a bit twisted up about it.”

Relief is heady when Queenie finally takes over comforting Credence. She even orders Jacob to go get him some snacks from the kitchen. Meanwhile, Tina is still being suspiciously quiet. Newt wants to think that the party can still be salvaged, and Credence’s first impression of his friends isn’t yet ruined, but at the same time… Credence is crying a lot. He’s likely been needing to get his feelings out for a long while.

That night Credence stays over, as does everyone else. It leaves the apartment overcrowded enough that they have to share a bed; Newt is careful to stack pillows between himself and Credence, and sleeps fully clothed for once. He wants the younger man to know he is safe, here if nowhere else.

\----------

Of course things couldn’t continue the way they were. Newt doesn’t really know why he expected them to. But, the moment that things go wrong, he immediately realizes what’s happening.

Cop cars pull up, lights flashing, and actually arrest Grindelwald in the middle of a lecture. Newt isn’t there to see it, but Queenie is, and she tells him what’s happened while the sirens are still blaring hard enough to make her voice difficult to hear over the phone.

Were it not for the chaos surrounding the incident, Newt probably would be getting in trouble for skipping class for the rest of the day. He doesn’t care either way. Credence is more important than some stupid, disciplinary grade drop.

He doesn’t know how his instincts guide him directly to Credence. He doesn’t care. He finds the poor kid curled up in the LGBT center, staring at a TV which is blaring an interview. An interview with Percival, Gellert’s identical twin brother. An interview detailing the scandal of Grindelwald, who was apparently pressuring students into sex.

Kneeling beside him, Newt snatches the remote up and hits the power button with far more force than necessary. “Credence, are you okay?”

Still staring blankly into space, Credence shakes his head.

_ Okay. That’s it. _ Newt makes a snap decision and just picks Credence up, carries him straight out of the room. He doesn’t care who sees. He doesn’t care if people judge him for it. He needs Credence safe and warm and cared for,  _ now, _ and clearly he’s got to be the one to do it.

_ There’s still so much I don’t know about him, _ Newt tells himself.

_ Doesn’t matter. I know he’s important. I know he’s beautiful and doesn’t think he is, or thinks that beauty is reserved for women. I know he deserves better than what he’s got. _

Near the LGBT center is a small park, the sort that’s commonplace around typical, “idyllic” college campuses. Clearly the campus has been anything but an idyll for Credence, but fresh air and the privacy a screen of foliage could provide might be helpful anyway.

Newt sets Credence down carefully, then breathes deeply, leading by example. He might not be very good at soothing humans, but he’s spent enough time volunteering for shelters to know how to soothe a frightened animal. And Credence seems half animal right now, white all around his eyes and breathing shallow with fear.

Slowly, so slowly Newt almost wants to call 911 or look up shock treatments, Credence calms down. His shivering slows, his breathing evens, and his eyes finally focus on the world around him. He looks briefly confused about why he’s surrounded by trees, and it about breaks Newt’s poor heart.

“Do you have somewhere to stay?” Newt asks, once he’s sure Credence is listening. “Because I have a spare couch.”

“That’d be nice,” Credence says, voice whisper thin. “But I can’t impose.”

Smiling, Newt says, “Credence, sweetheart, you’re never imposing. We’re friends, aren’t we? And friends help each other out.”

“Right,” Credence says. And then, stronger, “Right. But, um, maybe don’t call me sweetheart.” He gives an apologetic smile.

“Deal,” Newt says. “Now, as soon as you’re good to stand, we’re walking to the store and getting as much candy as our arms can carry. I can afford it, and I think we’ll all need it tonight.”

“Right,” Credence repeats. “Thank you.”

“Any time.”

Maybe things aren’t permanently solved. Maybe it’ll be awkward with Credence living with Newt and Queenie. Maybe it’ll be awkward with Newt’s crush still only semi-faded away. But things are better than they were, he hopes. Or believes. Yeah, believes, he’ll go with that.


End file.
